


How To Be Alone

by darknessvisible



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Young Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknessvisible/pseuds/darknessvisible
Summary: snippets along the way, from Ben Solo to Kylo Ren. [big emo mood. small scenes from childhood to Jedi training to Sith training to meeting Rey all the way up to TROS. spoilers in later chapters.]
Kudos: 5





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> [ This is my warm up fic to the Fix It fic ideas I have. I've been reflecting a lot on how Ben Solo/Kylo Ren is the character I took with me in my heart at the end of this trilogy, and I honestly hadn't been expecting that. These are small scenes from childhood to Jedi training to Sith training to meeting Rey all the way up to TROS. please enjoy, make sure you have tissues nearby, and share your thoughts with me if you are so moved to <3 ]

The first time Ben Solo realized his family feared him he was six years old. He’d been running along the forest outline, chasing another boy he’d met while his mother--tasked with diplomacy even on holidays--held her ground in discussion after discussion with men who looked important. The wind was fierce that day. His tiny legs, stunted by cyclical illness, wobbled and bucked against each snapping twig that obstacled his journey. _Catch the other boy. Catch him, Ben. You are fast enough to catch him._

His small hands extended to meet the wind, uncertain of their path, but somehow the other boy’s bright red hair snagged and suddenly Ben Solo had his palm against his neck, and the two of them went tumbling into the freshly wet ground, porous from the frequent rain. 

The other boy yelped. He tried to roll out of Ben’s grasp, shouting, “you cheated! Get away from me!”

Ben, still shocked by the contact, couldn’t move. He couldn’t let go. 

The boy started yelling louder. “Stop touching me! You’re going to make me sick like you!” 

Finally, Ben Solo’s chapped knuckles relaxed, as though he’d suddenly been punctured by the other boy’s words. 

He remained flat on the ground, eyes up at the sky, only distantly aware of the boy’s pounding footsteps as he ran back towards the base. Ben could feel him skid to a halt. He could always feel things that happened, even at a distance. He could even sometimes sense things before they happened altogether. It was a strange way to learn about the world. 

Soon Ben could sense a crowd of footsteps hurrying towards him, one pair more somber than the rest. It was the first time he felt hesitation in his mother. 

“Ben.” She summoned him to his feet in a single syllable. 

“I’m sorry,” he spoke numbly. The other boy was huddled behind his own mother, a tall woman with a sharp, long face and spidery fingers that webbed across the boy’s chest, holding him like a precious fly. 

Leia looked down at him with glossed eyes, her intentions as mired as the mud now stuck to Ben’s back. 

“It is time for us to go.” She reached a hand to his shoulder, intending to pull him in, but Ben flinched. He did not want to be a fly, too. 

His mother curled her hand back, as if it had nowhere else to go if not to him. She did not linger. “Now.” 

Ben followed her, chancing a glance at the other boy as he passed by. The red head was smirking, his mother’s hand still across his chest. “Sick.” He mouthed. 

And he was not wrong. Ben Solo did feel sick, his chest heavy with attempts to take in breaths while he sauntered after his mother, wondering why she kept such a quick pace when there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Anything to run away from. 

The other boy’s words echoed. _You’re going to make me sick like you._

That was the first time Ben Solo realized his mother was running from him. 


	2. ii.

He heard them arguing for hours, again. 

Han Solo was a stranger to Ben in many ways, but one thing he always knew about his father was the way he drove Leia Organa into the worst corners of herself. Whenever he was in town, there was always shouting--iterations of “if you hadn’t”, “whenever you”, “don’t make the boy”; not that any of it meant anything to seven year old Ben Solo. All he could uncover from the debris of their battles was the certainty that his presence in their lives was a constant source of unrest.

Sometimes they would argue in hushed tones. Ben yearned to hear these fights, to discover what it was that frightened them into whispering, but they took extra precautions, always sending him to another room and shutting the door. If it weren’t for the powerful sense he had of everything around him, he would never be the wiser to their silent arguments. 

Whenever Ben tried to discern what it was about, he would grow faint from the effort. It often triggered his bouts of illness, leaving him bedridden for days, emerging weaker and paler and more harrowed by the secret he could not access. 

His mother came out of the room first. 

When she saw him watching, his small frame swallowed by black fabric, leaving his colorless head to bob as though it were a ghost following her gaze, Leia Organa--Solo--held out her hand. “You’re cold.” 

She knew her son well. 

Ben crossed the room to her. When Han emerged from the room, their paths intersected. The older Solo reached out a calloused hand to ruffle his son’s wild hair. Ben flinched, but he did not pull away. 

“You’ve grown.” Han’s gruff voice regarded Ben, causing the little boy’s eyes to flick up at his father. 

The look awakened something inside Han. He turned towards his wife, eyes creased with worry. 

“I can feel it. Leia, please. You have to do something.”

His mother would not look at him. 

“Did I do something wrong again?” Ben’s voice cracked. 

“No.” Leia snapped, eyes trained on Han Solo as though he just betrayed something unspeakable. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s wrong with me?” Ben blinked. 

Han stepped towards the door, his face in full shadow from his son, shielding a pained expression.

“Your mother’s right. You’re cold. Take care, kid.”


End file.
